In 1978, I went to France as an exchange student. The first week I was there, we had an orientation. As part of the orientation, we went up to a bird preserve in Normandy. For lunch, our teachers gave us bread and butter and let us scatter over the beach.
I was in a small group of teens who decided to climb up on top of a bunker. Sitting there on the bunker, overlooking the waves washing up on the beach, we talked about how delicious the bread and butter was—the fresh bread made without preservatives, the sweet creamy butter. We all agreed that it was the best bread and butter, so much better than anything we had ever tasted in America.
I remember that day so well, because our conversation was so mundane when contrasted with the events that had occurred at that exact place less than half a century before.
The memories of WWII were still vivid in France at the time I was an exchange student there. I was even the target of gratitude for what the American soldiers had done there... which made me feel really awkward, since I had not been born yet when all that happened.
My sister’s family and my parents were in Normandy in 2002...STILL had locals coming up to them and thanking the US. *sigh* My sister says she was so overwhelmed with emotions. We really have no idea. (that’s a very general “we”....not intended for people to get offended)
Thanks for posting. I bet that is something, you will never forget